sauntereddownward (
sauntereddownward) wrote2021-01-16 07:29 pm
Aziraphale
Crowley had been having a ball. He'd figured out a bit of hackery with some code and some infernal miracles and soon enough he had millions of people angry at social media for long load times, zero refresh rates, and suspensions that came and were lifted seemingly at random.
He was absolutely giddy as he walked into the bookshop. He spied the angel in his chair and went to the one unanimously agreed to be his and flopped down, legs splayed out long and wide.
"Isn't it the most beautiful day?" he said cheerfully.
Never a good sign.
He was absolutely giddy as he walked into the bookshop. He spied the angel in his chair and went to the one unanimously agreed to be his and flopped down, legs splayed out long and wide.
"Isn't it the most beautiful day?" he said cheerfully.
Never a good sign.

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"Of course he would. For now," he said.
Crowley really didn't have any interest in the lad's soul nor his eternal damnation. Mostly he was just being a pest to get under Aziraphale's skin.
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Crowley looked snide and a bit pinched as he wrinkled his nose.
"Don't tell me you're genuinely going to take him on. Ugh, angel, he's a lost cause."
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Oh.
He liked him.
"Gross," he said flatly and settled into a deep, dark sulk.
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Crowley was too busy grumbling to himself about all the ways he was going to make that boy regret he'd ever met Aziraphale.
Lips pursed, arms folded, he was well on his way to a full on pout.
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"Yes," he snapped childishly, only more annoyed that the angel was as kind as ever.
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Clearly Crowley was simply in a bad mood because he was lacking tea.
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He huffed a breath out his nose as he took the tea.
"Thank you, angel."
Manners. Always.
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Crowley took a loud slurp of tea, enjoying it dramatically.
"That sounds pleasant," he said. "Oysters?"
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A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
That trollop wouldn't take Aziraphale for oysters. Crowley was clearly the better choice.
"Oysters it is," he said, finally with some cheer to him.
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"Moonlight and yooou..." he sang to finish that off.
"Yes. We can look at the filthy river and be grateful the oysters are imported."
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Crowley arched a brow and lowered his glasses to look at him.
"Tuxedos."
Even though his tone was dry, he knew Aziraphale knew him well enough to tempt him with a bit of flash. A bit over the top. The angel really was a bit of a bastard.
"Alright."
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Crowley let loose a sigh, dramatically letting Aziraphale know how put out he was. Except he wasn't, even a little, and he snapped his fingers and looked very international spy.
"Better?"
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Aziraphale bit his lip and nodded.
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Yes. That look in his eyes was much better. Crowley was definitely going to make Alcuin pay for ever causing Aziraphale's eye to wander.
"And you," he pushed.
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A second later, he too was wearing a tuxedo. One that looked quite similar to the suit he always wore. The same cream color. The same tartan bowtie.
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"It's supposed to be black tie, angel," he said as he admired him with a lascivious smile. The tux would definitely look better on the floor.
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